


His Greatest Weakness

by Slaskia



Series: Misfortunate Events [1]
Category: Halo
Genre: Gen, Humor, Short, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-09
Updated: 2008-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:43:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaskia/pseuds/Slaskia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Arbiter struggles to keep hold of something he considers dear to him, but ultimately fails and now must suffer for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Greatest Weakness

It was the worst torture the Arbiter had ever endured.  Not even the torture he endured when he was branded a heretic on the High Charity and given the Mark of Shame held equal to this.  How can something so simple leave a strong Sangheili like him so helpless!?  

No matter how much he squirmed and struggled he could not get away.  It didn’t matter which position he took: the torment continued.  He cried and pleaded for it to stop, but to no avail.  His tormentor wanted something important, something dear to him.  Something that would keep him from losing his sanity.  He would not relent, he would not give in! 

As suddenly as it began the torment stopped. Yet even with it being so brief he was breathless and weak. Helplessly he gasped trying to regain his breath as he lay sprawled on the floor.  Above him he could feel his tormentor lean close, her breath upon his naked back.  “Do you yield?”  He heard her say, feeling a lazy claw drag lightly down his back, making him flinch with terror.  “Do you surrender?” 

“N…never!”  He said defiantly, still panting. 

“Hmm…didn’t think so…” 

The torment began again, only this time it was worse then before since he was already out of breath and weaken.  Despite his warrior’s pride, he could no longer take it. 

“Alright!” He cried.  “You win!” 

His tormentor laughed with glee and snatched the object that he had been clutching so close to his chest.  Not even bothering to help him up, she sat on the couch and flipped on the TV with the remote.  “Ah good, I didn’t miss the start of the show…”  She said. 

“How…you can stand watching…that _garbage_ the human’s call a TV show…is beyond me.”  The Arbiter growled as pulled himself up to his feet.  Maybe there was still a chance…maybe if he could slip out of the room… 

Nope.  She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the seat next to her before he could even head for the door. “Oh no you don’t.”  She said with a mischievous grin.  “This is our _together_ time, so you are not anywhere.”  She bopped him on the head with the remote.  “And it’s called a _soap opera_.” 

“Which has _nothing at all_ to do with ‘soap’.”  The Arbiter said bitterly folding his arms.  He was wishing someone would call him, pull him away from this torture.  Hell, he’d even go to one of those politic meetings in a heartbeat if it meant he could get out of this. 

“Oh hush will you? I can’t hear the show.” 

“You are a cruel, _evil_ woman.”  The Arbiter sneered. 

“Oh lighten up…you can’t help it if you are _ticklish_.”


End file.
